Cuff Links
by vedette26
Summary: Who knew the Mafia was so fashion-conscious? A series of one-shots and what-nots regarding the Vongola and the clothes they wear.
1. Chapter 1

Buon giorno friends! I bring a drabble of sorts to the beautiful fandom wholly inspired by my bestie _thekookyeccentri_c who was wondering about the types of clothes our boys wear. And so after a conversation involving Armani, Valentino, diamond-studded cuff links and whatnot, this drivel was born.

This might turn into a collection of mostly, but not entirely, related oneshots, drabbles, and everything under the sun revolving around the Vongola and their fashion sense.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato; mentions of Ryohei and Hibari in this chapter.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for Gokudera's mouth  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Perhaps it had been a bad idea to let Gokudera be in charge of their trip to Italy.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Cuff Links<strong>

**.**

**.**

**.**

Now that Tsuna thought of it, it was probably a horrible idea to let Gokudera be in charge of their entire trip to Italy. It would seem that in a moment of sheer forgetfulness or stupidity (he was known to be susceptible to either); Tsuna had overlooked the little fact that Gokudera Hayato, his self-proclaimed right-hand man was something of a perfectionist.

Actually, scratch that, _perfectionist_ was too light a term.

The man was so incredibly nitpicky about the littlest of things that Tsuna was starting to think that Gokudera had OCD. And perhaps it would be a good idea to have him checked before the silver-haired Italian does something else that will piss someone off (namely Hibari) and would result in Vongola Decimo getting maimed by a pair of tonfas _and ohmygodwhatisRyoheiwearing?_

"Gokudera-kun," the young Vongola Decimo finally managed to choke out, immediately catching Gokudera's attention. "Is this really necessary?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to hurt Gokudera's feelings because, well, he looked entirely too happy with whatever it was he was doing and Tsuna would hate to rain on his parade.

Green eyes widened comically, and Tsuna felt the beginnings of a monumental tirade bubbling up inside his Storm Guardian's throat. "Of course it is, Tenth! We have to make sure that we all look presentable for an audience with the Ninth! We have to make a good impression on the ally families and show those fuckers that we mean business. I'm sure you understand, right, Tenth?"

The thing was, Tsuna understood very well.

It was just that he couldn't quite understand as to how fussing over tie designs would establish their power in the Mafia world.

Who knew the Mafia was so fashion conscious?

Certainly not Tsuna, that's for sure.

"Hibari, you're next!"

Today was going to be a long, _long_ day.

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fin

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><p><strong>AN:** I might continue this, I might not, it all depends on how I feel and how _thekookyeccentric_ will feel regarding about a possible collaboration. Also, it depends on my other bestie, _Kram_, who I am engendering to join this collaboration as well.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions?

Please leave a review.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again, everyone! I bring an update for Cuff Links!

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Reborn; mentions of the Vongola boys  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> None really. Mafia?  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Tsuna doesn't understand the point of it all.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

**Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine. **

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><p><strong>Look Your Best<strong>

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As surprising as it may sound, clothing has one of the biggest allocations in the Vongola budget, especially for the family's highest echelon including the Varia.

It wasn't as if they were horribly wasteful and picky when it comes to clothes, it's just that, well, they sort of _were._

There was a time when Tsuna griped about the wastefulness of it all; even going as far as to say that someday, the Vongola will go bankrupt because of their clothing expenses. Of course, this never happened but still, Vongola Decimo griped. He grew up in a modest family and he can't stand the fact that they were throwing away money just like that.

Tsuna didn't understand the other's obsession with the clothes they wore. Clothes were clothes, and in their business, nice clothes didn't last very long.

He didn't understand Gokudera's preference for a certain designer called Armani, or why Yamamoto only wore suits imported from Japan, or why Ryohei only favoured clothes made by his sister or Hana. He doesn't have the faintest clue as to why Lambo's clothes all had cow prints on them, or why Mukuro had a fondness for Valentino Garavani's clothes, or why Hibari had his own seamstress.

He never really got the whole point of it all.

Until Reborn took it upon himself to make Tsuna understand, of course.

"I just don't get it," Tsuna confessed to his tutor one day as he watched Gokudera argue with someone from Venice about the late shipment of his suits.

"Don't get what?" Reborn asked, joining him at the balcony overlooking the whole estate.

"Why you're all so picky about clothes. I mean, they're just clothes, they don't even last that long in our line of work."

Reborn sighed, shaking his head. "Gokudera only wears Armani because his mother liked that designer." The hitman started, levelling Tsuna a serious gaze. "Yamamoto imports his clothes from Japan to remind him of his roots. Ryohei only wears clothes that the people he loves make. The stupid cow wants to remember the Bovino family. Mukuro goes a long way back with Valentino Garavani. Hibari's mother sent that seamstress for him." Reborn finished with a flourish. "Anything else you don't understand, Dame-Tsuna?"

Tsuna blinked furiously, berating himself for missing those little facts about his guardians.

"In the Mafia," Reborn said sombrely, "we never truly know when we'll die. So it's necessary to always look our very best."

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To this day, the Vongola holds the title for having the best-dressed Mafiosi. The other families may hate their guts, but all of them had to admit that they were a bunch of well-dressed bastards.

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><p>AN: And that's that. My friends have yet to write for this because of exams. I'm the only idiot who refuses to go and study.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions?

Please leave me a review.

(Guys, as much as I appreciate your favorites and story alerts, I would very much like to hear from you guys. I can't improve if you don't tell me what you like and you don't like.)


	3. Chapter 3

Okay. I am well aware that this one isn't really for the humor genre, but meh. I had to write this sooner or later.

I'm still not really sure as to what I wanna do with this. I started Cuff Links for the sole purpose of releasing some pent up fandom excitement.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Gokudera Hayato, Yamamoto Takeshi, mentions of Reborn, Bianchi and Hibari; squintable hints of 8059, but not really.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for Gokudera's mouth and blood  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language, violence  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He's determined to teach the idiot how to at least remove the stains on fabric.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Ammonia<strong>

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When Yamamoto calls him at the middle of the night, Gokudera doesn't need further explanations and immediately hurries to wherever the baseball idiot was. Because there was only one reason why Yamamoto would call him at the middle of the fucking night, and it was something that Gokudera both dreaded and anticipated obsessively.

Yamamoto Takeshi committed his first kill at the ripe young age of sixteen, and Gokudera's not sure whether he should be proud or not.

He decides that he's not.

He finds Yamamoto at some decrepit and random alleyway; the Japanese is unnervingly silent as Gokudera approaches him and the dead body. The corpse is a sight to behold, not because it looked gruesome, but because of how horrifyingly clean it looked. There were only two wounds, as far as Gokudera could see; one on the head and another on the chest. As if the killer took a lot of care not to damage the body so much in the process of killing. Knowing Yamamoto, that was probably the case.

The victim, no, that wasn't entirely right, the _dead guy_, is, or _was_ an assassin hired by a rival family to eliminate the next Vongola Don and his guardians before they made themselves known in Italy. They've prepared for an attack for weeks now; it had just been Yamamoto's luck that the man found him first.

"I've already called my sister and Reborn-san," Vongola Decimo's self-proclaimed right-hand man announces to the empty air. "And Hibari too," he adds as an afterthought, face twisting into a small frown, remembering the terse conversation he had with the aloof teen "thought the bastard might want to know that his precious town is free of one more herbivore."

Yamamoto slowly lifts his head to look up at him, a shadow of a smile stretching his lips. "What did he say?"

Gokudera shrugs. "He said that we had better clean up our mess, because he sure as hell won't."

The baseball idiot tries to laugh, but then the laugh chokes into a sob, and then in a few moments, he has a crying Rain Guardian falling apart in front of him.

And it's alright, it's okay, Gokudera's prepared himself for this. So he simply pulls Yamamoto up and slings the dark-haired teen's limp arm over his shoulders and drags them both to his apartment.

"Come on," he says to Yamamoto when they reach his front door, the usual gruffness in his voice replaced with something akin to concern. "You're going to have to learn how to remove blood stains from cloth, because they are a bitch to get rid of."

"Thanks, 'Dera," Yamamoto tells him, and Gokudera tells him to stuff it because he doesn't need Yamamoto Takeshi's gratitude for something like _this_.

Gokudera Hayato committed his first kill when he was nine, and no one had been there to teach him how to remove the blood stains on his clothes and on his hands.

He's determined to be there for the baseball idiot and to at least teach Yamamoto how to get rid of the blood stains on his clothes.

Because he knows from experience that no amount of bleach or ammonia can ever get rid of the blood on either of their hands.

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><p>AN: So it kinda turned serious without my meaning to, I was planning to write about Tsuna and a dress, but I guess that can wait for next time.

I know that I'm stretching the idea of clothing for this one, but I dunno, this is an issue I want to address in this fandom. I'm also well aware of my questionable timeline, because I know for a fact that Shamal's supposed to have been there for Gokudera, but let's just pretend that he finds mini-Dera after his first kill, okay? Okay. I also warn you now that I am just a tad bit in love with Hibari Kyouya and I will try and insert him in my writings whenever I can. So if you don't like him, I'm sorry.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions?

I would like to hear about it. Please leave a review.


	4. Chapter 4

Remember when I said that this was going to be a collaboration with my friends? I meant that. And so, this is _thekookyeccentric's_ awesome contribution for Cuff Links!

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato, Yamamoto Takeshi, Reborn; mentions of Mukuro and Hibari in this one. Pairings will appear if one will squint and tilt one's head to the side.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Insanity, perhaps? Oh and some, ahem, implications.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The first time Tsuna set foot in Gokudera's apartment was as memorable as it was momentous.

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><p><strong>Closet<strong>

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The first time Tsuna set foot in Gokudera's apartment was as memorable as it was momentous.

Although it was mainly momentous out of sheer shock and awe.

Mostly shock.

As was with any place, there will always be things you'd like the most. Or in Tsuna's case, will never forget. _Ever_.

The first thing Tsuna noticed when he entered Gokudera's flat wasn't the fact that he had a spectacular paintjob of whitewashed walls or the fact that his windows were French panes. It wasn't even the polished mahogany doors and the carpeted floor that looked quite expensive.

It wasn't even the bathroom, as immaculate as it was or the den's leather couch and divan. Heck, it wasn't even the fact that the room smelled like eucalyptus or that everything looked like it was meticulously cleaned and polished 'til everything was practically _gleaming_.

Those weren't the first things he noticed.

Tsuna figured that everyone had their quirks.

Like how he liked mismatched 100% cotton socks—not that he'd admit to liking them(he only wished Reborn hadn't told _anyone_ about that) or Yamamoto-kun's affinity for checkered, button up shirts. Oh, there was Ryohei-nii's addiction to suntan lotion as well and Hibari-san's hatred for anyone crowding on his leather sofa. Reborn says it was imported from Italy.

Heck even Mukuro had his penchant for cherry chapstick which really made Tsuna remember that foreign song the excaped convict keeps humming whenever Hibari was around.

He assumes the song was about him.

But it wasn't even the dozens of Armani suits, Valentino, Prada or the multitude of labels and brands of people he didn't know—who Reborn says were apparently very important people—hanging outside the balcony to dry that caught his attention.

It wasn't even the Italian leather shoes he saw Reborn-san eying the other day while they were in Shinjuku sitting innocently on Gokudera's really nice shoe rack. He hoped that Reborn wouldn't steal them away. He had to keep an eye on the baby more.

He took a deep breath.

"Gokudera-kun, I don't mean to pry but…" he began

"Yes, Tenth?"

Reborn cocks an eyebrow and Yamamoto merely grins knowingly.

Tsuna wonders if Yamamoto had been to Gokudera's apartment before him since there was a rather out of place checkered shirt hanging along with the wash—but that wasn't the point right now.

"Is…I-I-Is that well-err… what I think it is?" he ends lamely.

The Italian merely spares a glance towards the object of the Tsuna's attention and knits his eyebrows in confusion.

"You mean my walk-in closet?"

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><p>AN: Because we all know that Gokudera has a walk-in closet.


	5. Chapter 5

In which I am done with my Plant Anatomy and Zoology Lecture exams! Whoo! (Then again, I still have no idea as to what my results will be, but oh well.)

As I promised back in Chapter 3, I present Tsuna in a dress.

**Title:** Traditions  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato, Sasagawa Ryohei, Rokudo Mukuro, Hibari Kyouya, Yamamoto Takeshi, Dokuro Chrome, Lambo Bovino, Reborn  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Cross-dressing.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> No. He was not doing this. Definitely not.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Traditions<strong>

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Sawada Tsunayoshi was quite certain that when he finally agreed to take up the mantle as Vongola Decimo, he did not agree to _this_. He was also pretty sure that when he was born, he had only checked one option for gender, and Tsuna was _very, very positive_ that he had checked the option for male.

And although his mother had this bad habit of dressing him up as a girl until he had been five years old, Tsuna was very sure that he was a boy and that he has no desire of turning into a girl in this lifetime or even the next. He _liked_ being a boy, _thankyouverymuch_.

So he does not quite understand as to why he was being forced to wear a _dress_.

Not that the dress was awful or anything. The ivory, white dress was actually quite charming; made from a flowy material that felt entirely too delicate in his hands and embellished with miniature sapphires that glinted in the light. The dress had been a gift from Donatella Versace in commemoration for his inheritance of the Vongola name.

Tsuna was _very_ certain that Donna Versace meant for his future wife to wear the dress. But of course, Reborn thought differently.

"I am not wearing a dress." Vongola Decimo declared mightily to his demon hitman tutor. Crossing his arms across his chest, the young Don gave the Italian a deep frown.

Reborn rolled his eyes. "Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!"

"You have to, it's Vongola tradition." The dark-haired man said with a hint of finality and Tsuna practically wilted on his seat.

"How is cross-dressing a Vongola tradition?" Tsuna exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "You're definitely making this up!"

"You're insulting me, Tsuna." Reborn sniffed derisively, even as a smug grin alighted on his face. "You can ask the Ninth if you want. This _is_ Vongola tradition; it was Primo who started it."

Tsuna's left eye twitched.

"Now hurry up and get dressed, the party's almost starting. It's part of the tradition to dance with your guardians."

Oh god.

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"My, my, you look absolutely stunning, Sawada Tsunayoshi." Mukuro purred teasingly as the illusionist offered him his arm.

"Kill me now, please." Tsuna replied long-sufferingly as he placed a gloved hand on Mukuro's proffered arm. "I'm serious, Mukuro, I won't mind if you kill me now." He continued earnestly, fighting the urge to scratch at the back of his head. The wig _itched_. "I am _ordering_ you to kill me now."

Mukuro had the gall to look affronted as they walked towards the dance floor; Mukuro had picked the shortest straw earlier much to Gokudera's chagrin and thus got the honour of being the don's first dance. "What, kill you and miss seeing you humiliated? I think not, Tsunayoshi." His Mist Guardian said airily, a wide smirk on his face. "Though I have to admit, the Vongola has some peculiar traditions."

Tsuna groaned, "I hate my life."

Mukuro just laughed.

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"You look…er…beautiful, boss." Chrome shyly told him as she led him to the dance floor for the second dance.

Tsuna wanted to die. "Thank you, Chrome."

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"Haha, you make a very cute girl Tsuna!" Yamamoto reassured him as his Rain Guardian led him through a waltz.

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Hibari looked torn between laughing his ass off and killing someone when he dragged Tsuna to the dance floor. "You look absolutely ridiculous, Sawada."

"I know."

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"GYAHAHA! WHY ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE A GIRL BAKA-TSUNA?"

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"I'm so sorry about the stupid cow, Tenth!" Gokudera apologized profusely as they danced and Tsuna merely sighed.

"It's alright, Gokudera-kun."

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"Is that really you, Sawada? I did not recognize you to the extreme! I almost fell in love with you!"

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><p>AN: Because Ryohei is awesome like that. Haha.

I have no excuse for this. Really. This wrote itself because I wanted crack.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions?

Please leave a review!


	6. Chapter 6

In which I just finished taking my General Chemistry exam (which was filled with general mindfuckery) and I wanted to write something that will lift my dismal mood and hopefully avert my attention from the fact that I might fail that exam.

This was wholly inspired by the last chapter because I kinda wanted a head canon that would explain the existence of the tradition of cross-dressing and dancing with your guardians in front of the Mafia world. Yeah.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Giotto, G, Alaude; mentions of Elena  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Stupidity  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Because Primo suffered, so shall you.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am just a poor Biology student.

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><p><strong>The Making of a Tradition<strong>

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G made his way briskly towards the large oak doors that stood in front of the Vongola Don's personal office, at least, it was supposed to be an office, but Giotto had thought differently and it was now technically some sort of meeting room. The red-haired man snorted derisively, Alaude had not-so-secretly hinted that he should go and check on Giotto, the Frenchman had an indistinguishable expression on his face when he had cornered G, and the right-hand man was just a tad bit worried.

It was something of an unspoken fact within the newly-formed Vongola Famiglia that Giotto was never to be left alone for a very long time, because who knows what kind of irreparable damage the man might cause?

He pushed the doors open with a bit more force than necessary and immediately guffawed incredulously as soon as his eyes fell on the Vongola Don.

"G! Close the door!" Giotto shrieked, awkwardly shuffling towards him and G can't help but snort.

"You lost a bet to Elena again, didn't you?" G deadpanned, a single eyebrow raised eloquently.

"No," Giotto quickly answered, flopping down on the large sofa, the satin wrinkling from underneath him. "Yes."

G rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked at the man that he swore his unfailing loyalty to and sighed long-sufferingly. Giotto was currently, for lack of better words, dressed like a woman. The blond man was outfitted in one of Elena's gowns and was clutching what appeared to be a wig in his hands.

"You never learn, do you?" The right-hand man said, "I told you to never bet against Elena Vindice because that woman will always, always win and you will end up doing something stupid."

"I know," Giotto whined.

"So what are you exactly supposed to do?"

"I have to dress as a woman and dance with all of my guardians in tonight's party."

And then G laughed.

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><p>AN: And yeah. I have no idea as to what Elena's surname is so I just kinda ran with the idea that it might be Vindice.

Somehow, I have this vivid mental image that Primo and Elena are total BFFs, and they'll be staging bets like this just for the lulz. And because Giotto fails like that, he almost always loses the bets and end up doing something stupid and embarrassing. Thus, this is the story of how the majority of the Vongola traditions are made.

Please leave a review!


	7. Chapter 7

So here's another one of thekookyeccentric's contribution to Cuff Links! She gave this to me a few weeks ago but I thought she wasn't finished with it yet. Turns out she was, and lo and behold!

Enjoy!

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato, Yamamoto Takeshi, Reborn  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for Gokudera's mouth  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language and stuff  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Vaffanculo! This is really tight!

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><p><strong>Stuck<strong>

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" Ne 'Dera, I'm not sure you're supposed to touch me there"

"Shut the fuck up you stupid baseball idiot! If it weren't for you and your stupidity we wouldn't be here in this goddamn _fitting room!"_

"It wasn't my fault! I got all excited when you got really into it because I never knew you _liked_ that kind of thing and then I couldn't hold it in any longer and got impatient—"

"The fuck? I do like that sort of thing! I'm from Italy! were taught this from a young age! "

"Maa, Maa I get it already could you just help me out now?"

"Impatient bastard, if you had just listened when I told you to go _fix it earlier_—"

"Oi 'Dera! That's not a button!"

"How the fuck would I know? It was hard! Why did you even pick a_ddressing room_ for God's sake?"

"Well, it's not like we could have done it in the comfort room, people would have seen us—"

"_Vafanculo!_ This is really tight!"

"Aah 'Dera hurry up I can't hold it in much longer!"

"This—would –go –a –lot—faster—if—you'd —_try_—to—_help_—instead –of—just –fucking—standing—there!"

"I am helping! I'm holding it in so I don't mess up your face!"

"I'm going to pull—"

"What? Now?"

Tsuna flipped another page of a magazine he was barely even reading. He was mainly holding it so he didn't have to look odd amidst all the other shoppers in the mall. But still, Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto-san were really loud. Couldn't they have been quieter?

Reborn smirked and tipped his fedora low as a baritone voice exclaimed giddily—

"God! That was amazing 'Dera! I didn't know you could do that!"

"Aren't you supposed to _go_right now?"

"Ah! Sorry! I nearly forgot!"

"Forgot? You better finish what you started!"

Tsuna had flushed a fiery red.

He was finding it hard to believe that Gokudera was only helping Yamamoto fix his stuck zipper.

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><p>AN: Tsk, Tsk, What dirty thoughts you have my dear readers! Because I am a tease like that *smirk*

Please leave a review!


	8. Chapter 8

Oh yay! Double updates! Thank thekookyeccentric again for this one because this is all her fault.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Reborn, Gokudera Hayato; mentions of other characters  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for gratuitous cursing ahoy!  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Language  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Step away from the shoes.

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><p><strong>Lessons<strong>

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Over the years Tsuna had learned three important lessons.

Lesson One, in battle, always remember not to make decisions when you are angry. He did not want a repeat of the whole Mukuro nearly destroying the Vongola over his lost Dolce and Gabanna bag.

He really should have expected Hibari-san to pull something like that so he'd have an excuse to have a go at the illusionist.

The repair cost of fixing the Vongola Mansion was enough to start his new habit of hair pulling.

In any case, he had resolved to be more tactful and cunning. Always four steps ahead of his a six-level contingency plan because things were _always_ bound to go wrong.

Lesson two, Primo was a bastard.

When he was younger he had always looked at primo with awe and respect.

That was a long time ago.

Now he just wants to maim the stupid fucking son of a bitch—he should be more composed than that—the retarded psychopathic masochist who invented the Vongola and his _traditions_.

Wearing a designer label dress was one thing, but having to kiss his guardians on the _lips_ as part of his wedding ceremony before he kissed his _wife_? His only consolation was Kyoko laughing happily at his shame.

At least Ryohei had the _decency_ of not shoving his tongue down his throat.

It also made him realize that Italians are indeed excellent kissers and should not be underestimated( and that Yamamoto wasn't lying when he said Gokudera was able to get _that_ much information out of the Yakuza boss from a mere kiss.)

And the last lesson, which is by all means sounds preposterous, should really be taken seriously.

"Let go" Reborn says quietly, his hands gripping a graceful six-inch heel pair of black leather heel boots.

"It's _Vivienne Westwood_, Haru's favorite" Gokudera replies without missing a beat.

"It's for _Luce_" Reborn says through gritted teeth.

"It's Haru's _birthday present_, and she's been _dying_to have these since Milan Fashion Week, besides, I got to it first"

Reborn keeps his left hand firmly on the shoe, reaching for his gun. Clicking the safety of, he points it at the silver-haired Italian.

"I'll only say this once again, _lasciare andare questa scarpa o ti faccio saltare la testa cazzo Fumaro Bomba_"

Gokudera merely smirks and grabs a dynamite from—somewhere, he really doesn't know how they manage to get their weapons past security anymore—and lights it.

"_Dovrò rifiutare questa signore Rinato, queste scarpe sono vale la pena morire per"_

The erupting chaos that ensued was a spectacle indeed.

Milan had learned its lesson that once the Vongola were in town for Fashion Week, they'd better have at least three pairs of shoes dedicated towards them. The damage to their city was hair-raising, not to mention the panic the public were in.

And thus we get to lesson three, To the Mafia—specifically the Vongola famiglia—It's not _once Italians start talking in Italian again they mean business,_ oh not that crap. Apparently—

_Fashion is worth dying for._

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><p>AN: Im not sure if Google translate is accurate but what they mean is "let go of the shoe or I'll blow your fucking head off, Smoking Bomb" and "I'll have to refuse that damn hitman, these shoes are worth dying for"


	9. Chapter 9

Ugh. I'm so sorry that I haven't been writing for this for quite a long time now; the thing is that I'm working on like, five stories right now and yeah. I am dying. Haha. This one isn't really too...clothing-related. But mostly this is me pimping my OTP.

_thekookyeccentric_ says that it's funny, but IDK. Our idea of funny is different from other people's. Again, I'm sorry if this sucks.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato; mentions of Rokudo Mukuro, Hibari Kyouya, and Hibari's mom.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for Gokudera's mouth.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language  
><strong>Summary:<strong> His Mist Guardian's courting expenses was starting to bother Tsuna.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Silk<strong>

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Tsuna knows that he should probably get used to his guardians' enormous expenses when it comes to clothing, but this was getting ridiculous. He wasn't a money tree, people!

"Gokudera-kun," he called out tiredly, turning his head sluggishly towards the silver-haired Italian sitting at the sofa in front of him. "Why is the Chinese Triad charging us with 10,000 Euros for silk?"

Gokudera blinked slowly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion before finally reaching an explanation for Tsuna. "I think that was Mukuro, Tenth."

"Mukuro." Vongola Decimo parroted. Why in the name of all things holy was Mukuro buying silk from the goddamn Chinese Triad? Tsuna knew for a fact that Mukuro only wore Valentino if he can help it and rarely bought anything else, so he can't quite understand as to why his Mist Guardian was going around buying expensive silk. He opened his mouth to ask for Gokudera's opinion but immediately closed them as he remembered a very important fact.

"He's trying to court Hibari-san again, isn't he?" Tsuna said, more of a statement than a question.

Gokudera snorted. "Unfortunately, yes. Yes, he is."

"And is it safe to assume that he bought all this silk to impress Hibari-san's mother?" Vongola Decimo asked because it wasn't really a secret in the Vongola's upper echelon that Hibari Kyouya's mother was a daughter of the Triad and that it would be to their advantage to be in the woman's good graces.

(The Hibari matriarch was scarily protective of her only son and Tsuna still has nightmares of his last meeting with the woman when he'd asked her permission to have Hibari indefinitely stay in Italy.)

"Yeah…"

"Great."

"So, d'you want me to call the bastard, Tenth?"

Tsuna thought for a moment. "No. Just. Let him be. Deduct three zeroes from Mukuro's salary though."

"Will do, Tenth,"

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><p>AN: I'm running away with the idea that Hibari's mom is a daughter of the triad. And she's totally overprotective of her son. (My head-canon dictates that Hibari Kyouya's childhood was filled with him dressing up as a girl.)

Meh. I have another instalment coming up, and this time, it has Dino. Because it's high time we have him here, and because I'm kinda in love with his dorkiness right now.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions?

Leave me a review, please?


	10. Chapter 10

Here. Have another update. I kinda felt bad because of the sucky quality of the last chapter.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato, Dino Cavallone  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for Gokudera's mouth  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Sometimes, Dino kinda hates Tsuna's guardians.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major

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><p><strong>Per Dio Dino<strong>

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Dino Cavallone walked purposefully towards the large oak doors that led to Vongola Decimo's office (the large circular room had been reupholstered during Secondo's time because Ricardo Vongola did not find it necessary to _mingle_ with his guardians like his predecessor had, and it had stayed as the don's office ever since), his excited footfalls muffled by the rich burgundy carpeting that adorned the hallway. The Cavallone Don was yet again in one of his visits to the Vongola Estate and Romario could only sigh and doggedly trail Dino lest the blond break anything valuable and consequently break a hundred years' worth of alliance with the Vongola all because of some ugly vase.

Visiting the Vongola Estate was always something of an adventure. An adventure that was horribly detrimental to Dino's health seeing as recently, more and more residents of the manor were trying to kill him. Mukuro had taken to attacking him every time they meet because apparently, _**Kyouya liked Dino better**_ and the illusionist obviously did not like that. Not that he can blame his _adorable_ student, he _was_ pretty awesome.

He knocked softly on the door before pushing it open with a wide grin set upon his face. "_Buon giorno_, Tsuna!"

"Ah, Dino-san, it's been a whi—" the young Vongola Don started only to be cut off by a loud coughing fit from Gokudera Hayato who had been lounging at the couch next to a bemused Reborn.

"Cavallone, is that—is that Dior?" Gokudera choked out, his gaze directed at Dino's new shoes.

"Oh, you noticed? It was a—"

"_Why in the name of Prada are you wearing shoddy French workmanship inside the Tenth's office?"_

Dino blinked. _Shoddy French workmanship?_ Well, someone was racist. "It was a gift?" And they _had_ been a gift from the Storm Guardian's sister.

"Good God, Cavallone! Show some goddamn patriotism for once! Wear Valentino or something!" Gokudera had a pained look on his face, as if Dino had just punched him in the stomach. "Who the hell gave you French shit?"

"Your sister did?" Cavallone Decimo answered with a grin and from behind his desk, Tsuna sighed while Reborn merely grinned.

"WHAT?"

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"Tsuna," Dino started one day, a phone pressed to the left side of his face. "I don't mean to pry with your Family's business but—"

"_What's wrong, Dino-san?"_

"Why are your Storm and Mist Guardians sending me gifts?" The blond don asked, eyeing the packages warily. The fact that it was Gokudera and Mukuro who had sent them kept him on edge. "I mean, I'm flattered and all, but uh, this is really starting to creep me out."

"_I'm assuming they're sending you clothes?"_ Tsuna asked tiredly.

"Yes."

"_Gokudera-kun says that we can't be allied to a family led by a boss with a horrible fashion sense," _the Vongola Don's voice said bluntly over the phone and Dino unconsciously tugged at his tie. His fashion sense wasn't that horrible, _was it? "And I think Mukuro's doing it as an attempt to make you stay away from Hibari-san. Please don't ask about _that_, I really don't want to think about it."_

"Okay?" Dino relented, before continuing apprehensively, "…and you're absolutely alright with this?"

Tsuna sighed. _"I can't really do anything about it because they're paying for the clothes with their own money…and well, they're not exactly doing anything illegal as of the moment."_

"Tsuna?"

"_Yes?"_

"Don't take this personally, but sometimes, I kinda really hate your guardians."

"_Yeah, me too." _

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><p>AN: This is me poking fun at Dino's clothes.

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Leave me a review.


	11. Chapter 11

Inspired wholly by a trope in TV tropes that says that Gokudera and Mukuro are the most fashion-minded people in the fandom. Like, I don't even know.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Rokudo Mukuro, Gokudera Hayato  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for Gokudera's mouth  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Clam Cuff Links vs Diamond-studded Cuff Links

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Cuff Links<strong>

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"Really, Gokudera?" Mukuro starts one day whilst getting ready for an important family dinner. "Clam-shaped cuff links?" The illusionist snorts derisively, heterochromatic eyes gazing incredulously at the aforementioned cuff links.

Gokudera bristles in response, clutching at his cuff links protectively. The Clam was the Vongola's symbol, for fuck's sake! "Says the guy with the diamond-studded cuff links, tacky much?"

"I resent that!" The Mist guffaws before rolling his eyes in the most condescending way possible that made Gokudera want to poke them with Yamamoto's sword. Well, wow, that sounded wrong in so many levels; Gokudera meant the steel one, not the—uh—never mind. "Anyhow, how can you expect anyone to take the right-hand man seriously when he's wearing clam-shaped cuff links?" Mukuro spits the words out as if it had mortally offended him.

"Fuck you, bastard, the clam is the Vongola's fucking symbol! It should strike goddamn fear into the hearts of every idiot who sees it."

Mukuro pretends to consider it for a moment before straightening his silk tie, diamond-studded cuff links glinting in the light.

"Sure it does."

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><p>AN: And then Gokudera punches Mukuro and all hell breaks loose.

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Please review!


	12. Chapter 12

Hello guys! Here's a random update.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Rokudo Mukuro  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Mukuro  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Who on earth assigned Mukuro for recon?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Flames<strong>

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Perhaps the most important thing to remember about the Dying Will Flames was that, well, they were flames. Meaning that they can burn things.

Like clothing for example.

Of course, Tsuna wasn't such a stranger to this concept. Seeing as his first few encounters with Dying Will Flames ended with him running around town in his underwear.

But he had long chalked it up as an effect of the Dying Will Bullet Reborn shot him with, and seeing as he had somehow graduated from being his demon baby tutor's favorite shooting dummy, Tsuna had thought that he had also graduated from beating people up in his underwear.

But like in many other things, Tsuna was wrong.

It has completely escaped his mind that the only reason his clothes did not burn was because they were made from Leon's magic thread thing.

And thus Vongola Decimo found himself in some random town in Sicily, forehead flaming and clad only in his bright red Armani boxers.

"Armani boxers," Mukuro positively crooned as soon as he arrived in the rented Bentley, "I'm impressed, Tsunayoshi. Did Gokudera pick them out for you?" The illusionist asked cheerfully as Tsuna slid into the passenger seat.

Pulling down the seatbelt, Tsuna was almost tempted to pout.

"Oho, ignoring me are we?" His Mist Guardian prodded with a wide grin, and the young Vongola Don had a feeling that he wasn't going to like Mukuro's next few sentences. "You'll be glad to know that we have a recording of you defeating the Luchessi in just your boxers. Oh, and by the way, it's currently circulating in the Vongola intranet."

"Mukuro."

"Yes?"

"Just drive."

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><p>AN: Tsuna was never going to live this down.

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	13. Chapter 13

This update is courtesy of_ thekookyeccentric_ and was written in retaliation to Reborn's cockblocking ways in Chapter 379. I'm sure every ColoLal shipper out there screamed in frustration at that ruined moment.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Reborn, Luce; Reborn/ Luce  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for Luce's pregnant woman mood swings  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Reborn was starting to hate weddings.

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><p><strong>Smooth Move<strong>

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Reborn had always known that Weddings were important occasions.

Well Italian weddings.

It wasn't a well-guarded secret that Fathers of the bride could not refuse a request made to him on that fortuitous day.

Most especially if they were related to the Vongola.

He also knew for a fact that planning a wedding takes a lot of time and effort, which is why they usually hired wedding planners for these things so they wouldn't have to worry about it much.

This schema was universal for him: Suit up, go to wedding, exchange pleasantries, free bar, guard the Family and go home.

It was as simple as that.

He was wrong.

They could get ugly.

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"What do you mean that there was a delivery mistake?" Luce asks, sickeningly sweet venom coating her voice as she talks to the person on the other line. Her normally kind expression disappearing as agitation spread across her face.

"Well, what other flowers are available then? I'm getting married in two hours" trying to get her voice under control.

Reborn who was listening in on the conversation through the door breathed a sigh of relief. She was still pregnant after all. This stress wasn't good for the baby.

"Daisies? You want to send us three crates of _Daisies?_Do you know nothing about weddings you imbecile? What am I? A dead bride? Do you want to send everyone a message that my _marriage_ will bring me an early grave?"

Reborn notes the fact it's been a long time since Luce had lost her temper with someone. He couldn't blame her, it was probably the hormonal imbalance that she's been having. She is six months pregnant after all. He would have loved to have entered the room and talked to the man over the phone himself but she believed that _grooms weren't allowed to see the bride during the wedding day_ and all that crap.

He'd told himself he would only enter the room in case of emergency.

"Aaargh! Those roses I ordered came all the way from Naples and you sent _them_ to a burial? Now isn't that rich? You have no idea whom you've crossed right now. How many bullets do you want to have on your chest?"

Crash. Bang. Bang. Bang.

And with the sound of three rounds being fired, Reborn instinctively enters the room, gun in hand.

"Luce! What happened—"

And he stared. And if he did believe in God he'd have thought her an angel. The Versace gown she was wearing, with all its lace and bodice made her enormous belly a welcome sight. From the curled, messy hair trapped in a bun to the lacy veil of white laden with pearls cascading over her beatific face she was perfect even with a gun in her hand.

"Reborn? What in the Holy Mother of God's name are you doing here in front of me?" She says shrilly.

"I heard gunshot and thought—"

"Oh you head a gun being shot all right! I shot the bloody telephone wire! But you, you're not supposed to even be here?"

"But I was worried and since you're with child you could have been really hurt—"

"Since I'm with child? Do I look like a damsel in distress to you? Do I?I can take care of myself and just because you're the world's best hitman doesn't mean you can try to fight my battles or _overlook_ tradition, or _insult_ me like I am some insignificant helpless woman. Have I mentioned that I'm getting married to you? "

"No I didn't mean it like that—"

And with that everything fell apart.

Reborn had tripped over the wire on the floor and as he grabbed the table for support. The table wobbled under his weight, shaking it, causing the bottle of brandy he had left earlier to teeter to the edge and onto the floor. It wouldn't have mattered much except for the broken telephone on the floor. But Luce shot at it. The brandy caused the wires to short circuit which wouldn't have meant a lot if it started a small fire, it would be relatively easy to put out.

Except that the thing that was on fire was the trail of Luce's Versace wedding dress.

A surprised yelp came from the female Arcobaleno as she tried to put the fire out.

"Luce!"

Reborn scanned the room and saw a fire extinguisher in the corner. Breaking the glass, he carries the contraption and clicks the nozzle, white froth spurting out from the container.

And when Reborn had finally put the fire out, Luce was not only covered in soot but in white froth from the fire extinguisher he used to put it out. She looked livid and murderous.

"REBORN! Un imbecile! "

He cringed.

"Luce, I'm sorry—"

" How could you do this to me? Setting your bride on fire? Do you find this funny? Am I going to be some battered housewife now? Don't you dare try to leave this room!" screamed Luce vehemently in a shrilly tone, a lacy, gloved finger pointing at the hitman accusingly who had backed away near the dory.

"I'm sorry—"

"Sorry isn't going to cut it! I've been waiting for this day since I was a little girl! And now its ruined and it's _your fault!_"

Luce points a gun at him. Fuck.

And he dodges bullets as Luce continues to take aim at him.

"And this dress was _Versace!"_

It looked like the wedding was going to be put off indefinitely.

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><p>AN: Serves you right, Reborn. You cockblock.

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Please review!


	14. Chapter 14

Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait, but I'm required to take some summer classes and yeah, my university obviously does not know the meaning of the word summer vacation.

Anyhow. We've had the Vongola boys, the Primo generation, some Arcobaleno loving here and there, and even some Dino. So. It was high time for these guys to make an appearance. And by these guys, I mean the Varia.

**Title:** Laundry  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato, Squalo Superbia; mentions of Yamamoto and Ryohei, hints of XS if you wanna look at it that way.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for cursing.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language, violence.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> That one where Squalo's shirts are pink and Gokudera embroiders his ties.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Laundry<strong>

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"VOOOOOOOIIIII!"

As soon as Tsuna heard that monosyllabic screech of fury, he swore that he saw the coming of the apocalypse right then and there. He can't even be faulted for trying to hide under his table when he heard the furious stomping of Squalo's boots outside his office. Nor can he be blamed for the admittedly girlish squeal he emitted when the large oak doors to his office was opened by a very angry-looking Squalo Superbia.

"Squa—"

"Who's the fucking genius who mixed the colors with the fucking whites?" Squalo bellowed, trudging heavily towards the Vongola Don's table and slamming down what appeared to be a horrendously pink shirt on it.

"I—what?"

The silver-haired Italian made a noise akin to a cat in heat before grabbing the pink shirt and shoving it in Vongola Decimo's face.

Tsuna raised a lone eyebrow, trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with the shirt other than the fact that it was horribly pink and _oh, oh_! "What happened to your shirt, Squalo?" He asks needlessly, the question tumbling out of his mouth.

"What happened? You wanna know what happened?" Varia's Strategy Captain screeched. "One of your idiots messed with the fucking laundry that's what! And now all of my shirts are ruined!"

Tsuna cringed; he knew just how touchy Squalo, or anyone in the Vongola for that matter, was when it came to clothes. "All of your shirts?"

"All of them!"

"I'm sorry?"

Which was probably the worst thing one can say to an enraged Squalo.

"YOU'RE SORRY? WELL SORRY DOESN'T CUT IT!" The silver-haired Italian screamed, reaching out with his real hand and grabbing Tsuna by the front of his shirt, easily lifting the young Don off his chair

"W-Well, what do you want me to do, Squalo?" He managed to get out, not even bothering to pry the other man's hold on his shirt. Reborn's threatened him this way countless of times already, so he's a bit used to it.

Squalo grinned, all teeth and pink gums. "I want you to find me the shitty bastard who owns this shitty tie," and then Varia's Rain Guardian slams a red tie on Tsuna's desk, next to the pink shirt, "and let me kill the goddamn bastard." And if it was even possible, Squalo's grin grew even wider, bordering on psychotic as he uttered the worst possible threat Tsuna has heard that particular morning. "Or else, I swear to god, Sawada Tsunayoshi, _I will bitch to Xanxus about this_."

Oh _hell_ no.

Oh no, no, no, no, no. no, no, no, no!

Vongola Decimo was not going to have Xanxus, that big drama queen, blast a hole in his office again!

As long as he was alive, he was not going to stand for this.

Not ever.

(Or at least, well, until this month was over. Accounting was already a bitch this season and it was going to get worse if they constantly needed to have repairs done on the manor all because of Xanxus' temper tantrums.)

Tsuna's wide eyes narrowed and he grimaced as he recognized the blindingly red Vivienne Westwood tie that Squalo had slammed on his table because he knew of only one person in his dysfunctional _Famiglia_ who embroidered their neckties with the Vongola insignia. And as if on cue, Gokudera Hayato enthusiastically strode into the Don's office, arms laden with—_oh joy_—more paperwork. Tsuna felt the crushing guilt of what he is about to do slide off of his shoulders at the prospect of more paperwork.

Gokudera was just going to have to take one for the team.

"Tenth, I have new reports on the Baseball Idiot and Lawn Head's negotiations with—holy mother of fuck, Squalo! What do you think you're doing to the Tenth?"

Squalo sneered, throwing Gokudera a glare over his shoulder. "Get lost, you whiny bitch, I'm talking to Sawada."

"What the hell? I'll—Hey, why do you have my tie?"

"What the fuck are you—" Squalo paused mid-shout, turning over Gokudera's words in his head before turning to Tsuna with a raised eyebrow.

Tsuna pursed his lips and nodded sagely.

Squalo proceeded to drop Tsuna unceremoniously, turning to Gokudera with a renewed vigor and a pink shirt in his hand. "You wanna know why I have your fucking tie? Your stupid tie turned all my shirts pink!"

Gokudera visibly paled. _Oh fuck._ "Please don't tell me those are your Valentinos." The Storm Guardian croaked.

"You mean the ones made from silk harvested from the endangered spiders in Madagascar?" Squalo asked. "Yes, yes they are."

"_Oh my god_."

"Are you keeping your word on this, Sawada?" The Varia swordsman asked, nonchalantly attaching his sword to his fake hand as Gokudera watched in confusion and trepidation.

The Vongola Don sighed. "Can you please not kill my right-hand man? You have my permission to maim him though—"

"Tenth?"

Squalo pretended to consider for a moment, "works for me." He shrugged and then turned to Gokudera with a toothy grin. "I'm gonna give you ten seconds to run, _Hurricane Bomb_."

"Wait what?"

Tsuna turned to his right-hand man with what he hoped was an apologetic smile.

"I suggest you run now, Gokudera-kun."

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><p>AN: Run, 'Dera, run!

So. Um. Evil Tsuna is evil. Haha. I personally have no idea about the silk thing.

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Please leave a review.


	15. Chapter 15

So I wanted to write cross-dressing Mafiosi yet again because I have no life. I was initially going to write more Varia, but then I thought, to hell with it, and went ahead and killed the first gen Vongola.

Out of all of them, I figured that Alaude would have the best chances of cross-dressing because of his, y'know, job. And every time I remember that he's French, I remember France from Hetalia, and yeah. Not a good combination. Also feauring Cavallone Primo just for the heck of it.

**Title:** Undercover  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Alaude, Giotto, Cavallone Primo; mentions of other people.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for cursing.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language that sounds very nice in other languages. OOC-ness. (Because holy hell, I have no idea how to characterize Alaude, and I just don't want to pattern him after Hibari, because Hibari is a rare kind of awkward and a special kind of insane, and I put Alaude in a higher regard than that. Haha. No offense to Hibari. But no, really, I didn't want this to be a different version of Hibari and Tsuna.)  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Alaude follows Giotto's cross-dressing legacy. Nah, not really.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine. Translations are by Google.

edit: Aglio-Sagezzza helpfully pointed out some wrong French translations, and I (hopefully) fixed it.

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><p><strong>Undercover<strong>

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If pressed for answers, well, straight ones, that is, Giotto's guardians will say that Vongola Primo's best and worst quality was his encompassing concern for everyone; also known as his inability to keep his nose out of everybody's business.

And his Cloud Guardian was steadily finding out just how incapable Primo was when it came to minding his own goddamn business.

Alaude mentally groans, his rouged lips twisting into a frown as a horribly familiar head came into view. _Mon Dieu, mais quest-ce que cet imbécile fait ici__?_ The Frenchman's right eye twitches comically, the action made even more obvious due to the layers of make-up on his face. He was currently in the middle of an important undercover mission that required him to dress up as a woman and the last thing that Alaude needed is Giotto walking purposefully towards him with the widest smile on his idiotic face. _Oh, for the love of—_

"_Vous avez l'air tout à fait ravissante, mademoiselle_," Giotto greets him in a deplorable French accent and Alaude barely refrains from strangling the man with his own cravat, as it is, the blond grabs the Italian roughly by the wrist and proceeds to drag him away from the large crowd inside the ballroom.

He might just end up killing the fucker and he did not need a room full of witnesses.

As soon as they make it out to the hallway, Alaude slams Giotto against the wall, a perfectly manicured hand tightening around the other man's neck. "What are you doing here?" He practically snarls, blue eyes narrowed into slits. _Here_, meaning in the middle of Maranello, miles away from the nearest Vongola territory.

Giotto just grins, not even bothering to pry the hand that was steadily crushing his windpipe. "You make a very pretty girl, Al—"

"What." _Thud._ "Are." _Thud._ "You." _Thud._ "Doing." _Thud._ "Here." _Thud._ Alaude demands, emphasizing each word by making Giotto's head slam none-too-gently against the wall.

"You're going to kill my brain cells if you keep doing that, Alaude." Primo teases in a lilting voice that makes his Cloud Guardian let go of him as if he had suddenly developed a severe case of leprosy. The Italian gingerly places a hand on his neck, wincing slightly at the small laceration where one of the rings on Alaude's hand had caught. "I should threaten you with that more often…" Giotto muses out loud.

Alaude scowls, all the while repressing the urge to pull off the wig. It itched. "You're stupid enough, heaven forbid if you lose any more brain cells."

"I resent that." Giotto performs a scandalized gasp before straightening his cravat. "The Father is in Roma, G is currently preoccupied with Signorina Primavera with the accounting, Asari is in Japan, Lampo is probably sleeping somewhere, Daemon is well, I don't really know—and you're here! You told me that I need to keep close with one of you at all times, so…here I am!"

Alaude brings out his handcuffs threateningly from under the many skirts of the silk dress.

"I'm kidding!" Giotto quickly amends. "A friend of mine—Enzo Cavallone—was telling me about a certain French _mademoiselle_ that he can't seem to woo—_and would I please come over to tonight's festivities and woo her for me, I have a feeling that she's going to be there_." He finishes with a shit-eating grin.

The Frenchman blinks. And then.

"You _know_ Enzo Cavallone?" Because he's spent three hours scouring the entire ballroom for the man and he has yet to find hide nor hair, and now Giotto was telling him that—Oh god, _not again_. He was a man for Christ's sake! (He may be French, but Alaude was above what his fellowmen did for_ fun_.)

"He's my _other_ drinking buddy—"

"Who is he? Describe him. Now."

Primo gives his Cloud Guardian a skeptic look. "You're not going to arrest him, are you?"

"He has information that I need." He replies quickly, not answering Giotto's question.

"Alright? He's tall. Black-haired. And lots and lots of tattoos." Giotto lists off with his fingers like a five-year-old.

"_Vaffanculo_," Alaude curses because he knows exactly who Giotto is describing. It was the moron who's been trying to make a move on him at the very beginning of the party! _Merde._ He turns to Giotto with a fierce glare, "Stay here. Don't do anything stupid," before turning back towards the ballroom in a run.

"Have fun! I've heard he's very good in bed," the Vongola Don calls out, earning him a vase to the head. "And I heard he likes men too!"

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Unfortunately, Alaude meets with Giotto a week after that disastrous affair with Enzo Cavallone.

"So—"

"Yes, I had sex with him. Happy?" He snaps as soon as he sits down on one of the annoyingly squishy armchairs in Giotto's office.

Giotto bites off a grin. "I wasn't going to ask, but good for you."

"_Va te faire foutre_."

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><p>Translations:<p>

_Mon Dieu, mais quest-ce que cet imbécile fait ici_- My God, what is that idiot doing here?

_Vous avez l'air tout à fait ravissante, mademoiselle _- You look absolutely ravishing, miss

_Vaffanculo_ - A must-know for every KHR fan.

_Merde_ - Shit

_Va te faire foutre_ - Fuck off

A/N: Primavera means 'Spring' in Italian...so...take a wild guess as to who G is arguing against. (I love playing with the parallels in here, I'm sorry.) Maranello is a city(?) in Northern Italy and it is the base of operations of Ferrari, so I thought, hey, that could be Cavallone territory. And yeah. Enzo is Cavallone Primo, named after Enzo Ferrari. (And now that I think of it, Dino just named his pet turtle after his great-something gradfather.)

This is perhaps the closest to D18 that I am going to get.

Also. Guess what's going to happen in the next chapter.

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	16. Chapter 16

Lessee, this is a sequel of sorts for that last one. Because I needed to write about Hibari Kyouya in a dress.

I have no life. Seriously. Also, I promise to stop the Hibari spam after this one. I swear. No more Hibari for a very long time. Because I keep destroying his character each time I try to write him and I honestly deserve to be bitten to death.

**Title:** Foul Play  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Reborn, Hibari Kyouya, Rokudo Mukuro, Dino Cavallone; what pairings? There are none!  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language  
><strong>Summary:<strong> "I will bite you to death _until your fucking ancestors bleed._" That one where Tsuna wants to die and Hibari is more than willing to help.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Foul Play<strong>

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Tsuna was starting to suspect some foul play. Or at least, he was starting to doubt Vongola Primo's sanity, because it seemed as if all of the so-called Vongola Traditions were all meant to give him life-long trauma.

Dressing up as a woman? He can handle that. Dancing with his guardians while dressed as a woman in front of the whole Mafia World? Piece of cake. Skinny dipping in shark-infested waters? No problem.

But this, this was suicide.

No, this was worse than suicide.

This was—

"—you're going to have to tell Hibari, since he's your guardian." Reborn quipped happily from his perch on the couch and Tsuna scowled at the harbinger of bad things in his life.

"You want me to tell my Cloud Guardian, Hibari-Mr-I'll-bite-you-to-death-if-you-as-so-much-as-breathe-incorrectly-Kyouya, that he has to dress up as a woman and dance with Dino-san." He deadpanned, grimacing at that horrifying mental image. "Hibari Kyouya." Tsuna repeated gravelly, an unbidden shudder of pure, unadulterated fear running down his back.

Reborn smiled beatifically. "It's Vongola Tradition, it's a symbolic representation of how the Vongola and the Cavallone forged an alliance that stood the test of time."

Tsuna scowled, "you told me that Giotto and Enzo were drinking buddies and made the alliance over a bottle of brandy!" He accused almost hysterically, Reborn had forced Vongola History down his throat and he was pretty sure that there was no cross-dressing involved in that particular alliance.

"They were and they did," the Arcobaleno assured, "but the alliance wasn't too strong at that time, there was still some hostility—so Primo thought it best to appease the Cavallone with a woman—but since the Vongola at that time was still a small family, we really didn't have any women to spare at that time…Primo volunteered his Cloud to do the job, and so will you."

The Mafia was _weird._

"I hate my life." Vongola Decimo decided before adding, "Why does it have to be Hibari-san? Why can't it be Hayato or I dunno, someone who won't kill me for just existing?"

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Seeing Hibari Kyouya look so flabbergasted was something of a novel experience for Tsuna and his hands itched for a digital camera to capture the incredulity in his Cloud Guardian's face.

_Very good, Tsuna, look for other reasons for Hibari to gut you with his bare hands._

After a few seconds, Hibari finally broke out from his trance. "You want me to what?"

Tsuna considered his choices.

Who was he more afraid of, Reborn or Hibari?

Yep.

_Sorry, Hibari-san, but Reborn's got that title won. _

He sniffed miserably.

"_Ineedyoutodressasawoman_." The Vongola Don, mumbled out quickly, trying to hide behind his desk as a murderous look appeared on Hibari's face and he's somehow thankful of the rule he'd decreed that weapons were not allowed inside his office. Not that Hibari needed his tonfas or his hedgehog to kill Tsuna; in fact, his Cloud Guardian seemed to be considering decapitating him with a lampshade.

He wondered how that would look like on his death certificate; Sawada Tsunayoshi, death by _lampshade._

"Do I look like a woman to you, Tsunayoshi?"

Tsuna bit off the resounding _yes_ that was forming on his tongue and responded instead with a hurried shake of the head. "But, the thing is, Hibari-san, this is um, important tradition…and—"

"No."

"But you have to do it, or else—"

"Or else what, Tsunayoshi?"

The Vongola Don gulped down the apprehension building up in his throat. "Apparently," he started conversationally as he started fiddling with one of his pens. "Mukuro can easily possess those he'd possessed in the past."

Realizing the implications of his words, Hibari's eyes narrowed into murderous slits.

"You wouldn't."

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Apparently, Tsuna would.

And so, the questionable Vongola Tradition #18 was currently on its way to being fulfilled, until of course, all hell breaks loose.

Tsuna could only watch in horror as Hibari proceeded to knee Dino in the groin before headbutting the older man. _Oh my god, they were all going to die_. "Mukuro!" He hissed hurriedly, not even flinching when his Mist Guardian appears beside him. "What's going on?"

Mukuro hummed thoughtfully. "Let's just say Kyouya made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

Tsuna blanched, practically shrinking as Hibari stomped towards him in five-inch Loubotin's.

"I will bite you to death _until your fucking ancestors bleed_."

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><p><em>Omake:<em>

Mukuro languidly stretched Hibari's limbs and Tsuna watched in slight terror as his Mist Guardian possessed his Cloud.

This had to be one of his worst ideas to date.

"Hey Tsunayoshi," Mukuro called out in Hibari's voice, "you have a camera in there right? Take a picture of me, I've been wanting to do this forever." And then Mukuro strikes the sluttiest pose and Tsuna decided that _yes, this was the worst idea he had ever come up with. Ever._

_._

_._

_._

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><p>AN: Don't judge me.

I really have no explanation for this.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions to my questionable sanity?

Please review.


	17. Chapter 17

I am bored. Somehow, my folks have elected me to house-sitting duty while they go visit relatives. Being home alone is not fun as they say. Home Alone lies.

Ugh. I am so out of my writing groove right now, but this needed to be written because of reasons.

**Title:** Cuff Links  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Dino Cavallone, Lambo, Reborn, Lal Mirch, Luce; mentions of Rokudo Mukuro  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language & violence  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Never mess with the fedora. Unless of course, you're Luce.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Fedora<strong>

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"Okay," Reborn begins one day, a shot gun casually slung over his shoulder as he eyed the shocked faces of his two idiot students. "Which one of you idiots did it?" He asks, nonchalantly barging in on what was supposed to be an important negotiation between the Vongola and the Cavallone, but knowing Tsuna and Dino, it was safe to say that there weren't any serious negotiations happening at all. He's going to have to punish them for that later.

The two dons share a look of confusion mixed with pure unadulterated terror; the last time they had been in the vicinity of a shot gun toting Reborn, it had not ended well.

"Well?" The dark-haired Italian asks again, leveling the two with the fiercest glare in his arsenal. "Which one of you hid it?"

Dino, bless his poor soul, plucks up the courage to ask, "Hid what, Reborn?"

"My hat."

"Um—" Tsuna starts to say, only to be cut off by Reborn patting his shoulder with the shotgun.

The infamous hitman purses his lips, shouldering the shotgun again much to Tsuna's relief. "You two are too scared of me to attempt anything like that…" he mutters under his breath, followed by a string of words that neither Tsuna nor Dino could understand. "Ah, the _stupid cow_," Reborn announces to no one in particular, turning on his heel and deftly exiting the Vongola Don's office leaving two of the most powerful Mafia bosses to gape at him like fishes.

Again, Dino and Tsuna share a look before sighing simultaneously.

First rule in dealing with Reborn: _never, ever mess with the hat. _

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"W-wait! Reborn, I didn't—Eek!" Lambo squeals hysterically, dodging the bullets Reborn was sending his way. "I didn't steal your hat!" Vongola Decimo's Lightning Guardian yells before tripping gracefully on air and falling flat on his face.

_Ow_.

Lambo sniffles pitifully on the ground, what has he done to deserve this? He had been just napping peacefully in the garden and the next thing he knows, Reborn was assaulting him with a barrage of bullets and demanding that he give the other man's hat back.

He nearly wets himself when he feels the cold barrel of Reborn's fucking shotgun (a shotgun!) press against the back of his head.

"I," Reborn says conversationally, as if he didn't have a freaking gun pressed against Lambo's head. "Am going to count to three, and if you don't tell me where my hat is, I will blow your fucking brains out. Capiche?"

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And so for the next two weeks, Reborn ends up threatening anyone in close vicinity for the whereabouts of his beloved fedora. Of course, no one actually gives him a straight answer as everyone was too busy running away from him (or in Mukuro's case, laughing his ass off). Two weeks without his trusty fedora perched on top of his head, Reborn looks absolutely miserable. He feels, dare he say it, disgustingly naked without the hat and he berates himself for being so _weak._

It was just a hat, damnit!

But fuck.

He loved, _loves_, that hat.

Reborn lets out another long-suffering sigh and tries to pluck up the courage to buy a replacement.

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"This is getting ridiculous," Lal mutters as she watches Reborn stumble forlornly into a hat shop. "Can't you just forgive him and give his hat back? I'm not terribly fond of the bastard, but watching him amble aimlessly without his hat is hurting me." The former COMSUBIN trainer turns to look at a smiling Luce.

The other woman merely hums happily in response, absently twirling the black fedora. "Oh, he'll be fine for another week or so."

Lal shakes her head, "you're still not over that time when he set your gown on fire, aren't you?" She asks rather needlessly, because obviously, Luce still wasn't over that particular incident. It _was_ Versace.

She almost pities Reborn.

Almost, being the key word.

"Nope!" Luce answers, picking up a silver tray laden with an assortment of cookies and offering it to her. "Cookie?"

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><p>AN: It sounded funny in my head. Also, the ending is half-assed because I ran out of things to write. Story of my life.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions?

Please review!

(Will be on hiatus until I can get my muse in order.)


	18. Chapter 18

I am suffering a never-ending bout of writer's block.

So. Cuff Links. Yeaaah. This started as an inside joke between me and kooksthekook which escalated into something we really don't have time for anymore. (Between college and rl things, it's really hard to find time to write) BUT. As I will forever and ever love this fandom and I actually have a couple of chapters outlined already, I will actually continue this. But. Reaaaally, really slowly.

We originally planned to have 27 chapters for this (because Tsuna and we like to be symbolic and shit), but with the rate my professors are flinging exams and reports at me, we shall see if this will come into fruition.

Anyway. This chapter was inspired by that picture of TYL!Yama and Ryohei with the motorbike and the leather pants. _Yes._ That picture.

**Title:** Advice  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Yamamoto Takeshi, Squalo Superbia; mentions of other people. Uh. Hint of 8059 because of reasons, and uh S80 bromance, I guess?  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language & fashion critique courtesy of Squalo  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Yamamoto really needs to rethink his life choices.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

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><p><strong>Advice<strong>

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For not the first and certainly not the last time in his life, Yamamoto Takeshi wondered if it was such a good idea to approach Squalo for advice. Sure, he knew he could always count on the Varia swordsman for advice on the way of the sword, but _this _was a different matter altogether and _really, maybe he should have just asked Ryohei instead… _

"Uh, Squalo…are you sure about this?" Yamamoto ventured to ask and was rewarded with a steely glare from the Italian. He mentally groaned; he really should have known better than to ask the older man for _this_.

_This_, being some much needed fashion advice.

Normally, Yamamoto would probably be the last person in the Vongola's upper echelon to worry about fashion (second only to Tsuna who positively cringes at the thought of wearing expensive clothes, despite, _y'know_, the whole Mafia shtick).

But _right now_ was not a normal situation; _right now_ was a matter of life and death.

Or, well, it was a matter of Yamamoto getting laid or sleeping on the couch for the rest of his life (read: this month); which is pretty much the same thing, if you stopped and thought about it.

"Who's the fucking expert here, brat?" Squalo asked gruffly, grabbing a black v-neck from the nearest pile and slapping it against Yamamoto's chest. "Try that on, and maybe you'll stop looking like a fashion victim for once in your shitty life."

"Um, right here?" Yamamoto asked, because unless Squalo wanted him to strip in the middle of the Varia's sitting room, then there really was no other place for him to change. (The bathroom's too far away and he doesn't quite trust Belphegor to not suddenly appear and go at him with knives.) He's not some blushing virgin bride, who would cringe at the prospect of stripping in front of other men, but still, he was in Varia territory, and he's not too much of an idiot to tempt fate.

"Well, of course, right here!" Squalo yelled, and if it were any other person, Yamamoto would think they were being rude, yelling like that, but yelling was Squalo's way of showing his love and care so Yamamoto lets it go and starts unbuttoning his shirt. "It's fucking smart of you to come to me for advice," Squalo started, sitting down on one of the many sofas that littered the room and busying himself with the pile of clothes the Varia swordsman had procured earlier. "Seriously, the only one who actually knows anything about fashion in that little trash heap of yours is your half-breed boyfriend, but he's a total bitch so he doesn't count."

Because Squalo was totally not _bitchy_ at all, Yamamoto thought as he finally shrugged on the shirt before realizing what the other swordsman was implying. "Wait, Gokudera's not my boyfriend—" but only because Gokudera hated the word and would likely stick dynamite up Yamamoto's ass if he even as so much as think of it.

"Because you dress like a dork," Squalo sniped viciously, still busy unearthing clothes for Yamamoto to wear.

"Mukuro's pretty—"

"If the next word out of your mouth is _fashionable_, I will castrate you." The Italian growled, cutting off whatever Yamamoto was about to say about Mukuro's fashion choices. "Rokudo wears thigh-high boots and thinks that it is fucking okay to wear a lime green trench coat over a tie-dyed indigo nightmare that he calls a shirt. That bastard will be fashionable when Levi stops being a fucking creeper." Squalo concluded before handing Yamamoto a pair of ridiculously tight leather pants. "Now take off your slacks and wear those."

"Aren't these a bit too tight for me?" Vongola Decimo's Rain guardian asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow as he perused the leather pants that he's pretty sure belonged to Squalo when the man was still fifteen or something.

"That's the fucking idea, fucktard," Squalo snapped, waving an impatient hand at Yamamoto prompting the Japanese to _just get a fucking move on already_. "And it's not going to be too tight because you're going commando. Now take off your pants before I slash them off of you."

Yamamoto sighed; he _definitely_ should have just asked Ryohei.

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><p>AN: Yamamoto's getting laid tonight.

And okay, I love Mukuro with the force of a thousand suns. But Squalo really has a point.


	19. Chapter 19

See? I'm still writing for this!

This was written mostly to cheer myself up because there has been a steady influx of shitty things happening in rl right now and I needed some distractions. Not my best one, but the idea was funny and it wouldn't leave me alone.

So uh, yeah.

**Title:** Babydoll  
><strong>Characters Pairings:** Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato, Bianchi, mentions of other characters; Dino/Bianchi because why not?  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T for Gokudera's mouth  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Coarse language and innuendo(?)  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Tsuna observes the weird, but fascinating rituals of his right-hand man and his sister.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am but a poor Biology major.

Unbeta-ed. Mistakes are mine.

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><p><strong>Babydoll<strong>

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"Hey Tsuna," Bianchi drawls as she pushes her way inside Vongola Decimo's office, her black heels click-clacking against the polished hardwood floor. "Can I borrow Hayato for a minute?" The pink-haired assassin asks, nonchalantly interrupting his meeting with his right-hand man and really, you'd think that people would give him some sort of respect now that he's actually the boss, but alas.

Sawada Tsunayoshi looks up from his staring contest with Gokudera ready to tell Bianchi that no, she can't borrow her brother because said brother was still too busy being reprimanded for picking a fight with—_wait for it_—Belphegor and subsequently destroying a large chunk of the garden (as well as the foyer of the Varia's castle, but that was completely out of Tsuna's jurisdiction, and was definitely not his problem), when the words die in his throat. Because aside from the five-inch deathtraps Bianchi likes to call shoes, she wasn't wearing much of anything; just black lacy lingerie that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

And _oh_, that's a new one; she apparently has a _fleur de lis_ tattooed on her right thigh.

Huh.

You learn something new every day.

"What the hell woman?!" Gokudera shrieks like a dying cat, jumping up from his seat and stomping his way towards Bianchi. "Have you no shame?" The silver-haired Italian snarls even as he shrugs off his suit jacket and offers it to his sister.

Bianchi snorts. "It's just Tsuna," she reasons and Tsuna thinks that he should be offended by that statement but lets it slide. The last thing he needs is a poisoned cake to the face, plus it was sort of cute to watch Bianchi and Gokudera perform their weird and highly dysfunctional sibling rituals. "Anyway," she continues, taking the proffered jacket and slipping it on effortlessly. "I need your opinion on something."

"And you couldn't wait?" Gokudera snaps, crossing his arms across his chest and scowling at Bianchi.

A look that says somewhere along the lines of, _are you seriously asking me that, Hayato?_ flits on Bianchi's face and Tsuna's not even surprised when she responds with a deadpan, "no," to Gokudera's completely unnecessary question.

And then Gokudera sighs the sigh that Tsuna always assumed was reserved for Lambo, Ryohei, and Yamamoto. It was one of those overly dramatic ones that involve a lot of shoulder work and eye rolling. "Fine," his right-hand man bites out reluctantly. "What do you want?"

"_You're adorable_," she croons in Italian, a victorious smile blooming on her lips as she reaches out and pinches Gokudera's cheeks. "I need you opinion," she starts before fiddling with the jacket so that it showed off the lingerie. "Should I wear this, or should I go for the babydoll?"

"Depends," Gokudera hums, clinically assessing the lacy garment before looking back at Bianchi. "Is this for a mission?"

"It's for a date." Bianchi replies sweetly and Tsuna watches in fascination as Gokudera's face morphs into something that resembles a squashed tomato.

"_A date_?! Who the _**fuck**_—"

"Cavallone. "

"Seriously? And here I thought you had better taste than that."

"I do what I want."

Gokudera, for lack of better words, looks skeptical at that. It's not as if he has any qualms about whatever his sister does on her spare time, but it's just that he _knows_ his sister and he knows that guys like Dino Cavallone never make it to her radar unless— "Is that code for he's as hung as a horse or something?"

"That and he's surprisingly good in bed." Bianchi acquiesces with a wicked smile, proving Gokudera's hunch to be true and making Tsuna balk in horror because _ohmygod_ he definitely did _not_ need to know that. "Well?"

"I'll go for the powder pink babydoll, Cavallone seems like the type." Gokudera finally says, because okay, despite everything, Dino's a pretty decent guy (for a Mafioso) and if dating fashionably-challenged Mafia bosses with an unhealthy obsession for Japanese sociopaths made his sister happy, then so-be-fucking-it. Besides, with Bianchi's track record, she'll probably move on from the blond _capo_ soon enough.

If not, well, Gokudera's just found a use for his latest shipment of explosives.

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><p><em>Omake<em>:

"Hayato?"

"Yes, Tsuna?"

"Please inform me first before you try to kill Dino-san."

"Will do."

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><p>AN: I love Dino, I really do. And I actually do ship him with Bianchi.

I'd like to think that somewhere along the way, Gokudera will grow up from calling Tsuna "Tenth" at least in private. Also, headcanon dictates that Tsuna kinda likes being able to call his guardians by their first names. Calling Hibari by his first name is Tsuna's greatest victory, I kid you not.

Anyway. The writing's kinda sucky and I'm sorry for that.

Please review! Concrits are always welcome!


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